


Stages of Grief

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Empty House, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next morning John woke to find Sherlock Holmes staring at him as they lay side by side facing each other on Sherlock’s bed.  Adopting a dead eyed gaze he retreated into himself.</p><p>“How do you feel?”  Sherlock asked cautiously.</p><p>John groaned and brought his hand to his face to rub away the fuzziness in his mind.  Rolling onto his back he stared up at the ceiling.  “They’re dead.”  Closing his eyes he fell back into a restless sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stages of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings!  
> This story deals with Season 3 and moves on into uncharted waters based on ACD's canon of what happens to Mary Watson in Empty House. It was always my head canon that she died in childbirth... But with the modern storyline, it's more sinister. 
> 
> Time shifts... This fic shifts back and forth in time (mainly because I wanted to start upbeat but then I realized I had a sad recovery story to tell). The "then" and "now" got a little complicated so I used dates.
> 
> I actually have several fics... But I want to hold off in posting until after Last Vow airs in USA.

“Have you ever considered marriage?”

“Marriage?” Sherlock asked, glancing up at John.

“Yeah… Like what you did with Janine… Anyone in your life you ever considered marrying for real?” John looked exhausted despite his words.

For a moment Sherlock considered John’s motivation behind the question. The man was looking for comfort during his mourning. “Yes.”

“Yes?” John echoed.

“That’s what I said. Yes. I have considered marriage.” Sherlock replied, watching John for further signs of distress.

“Anyone I know?” John let out a soft chuckle of amusement… The first since that terrible night.

“Yes.” Sherlock whispered.

John made a thoughtful face and leaned forward. “The Woman?”

“Not my area.” Sherlock answered.

“Not your area?” John repeated before leaning back in his chair. “A man? It’s legal now.”

An amused smile tugged at the edge of Sherlock’s lips as he regarded John. “Yes… It is legal now.”

John gave a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m… I’m going back to bed.” 

“Goodnight, John.” Sherlock answered.

^.~

February 12, 2014

It was dark when Sherlock returned to the flat, relieving Mrs. Hudson of her vigil. They spoke not a word as she left him with a gentle pat to his arm. The door shut behind her and he closed his eyes, leaning back against the door. Too much blood and sadness filled his senses, threatening to overwhelm him. With a cleansing sigh he quietly made his way to his bedroom and opened the door. On the bed John was curled up on top of the duvet. 

Sherlock watched the other man sleep an unnatural sleep. John Watson had been sedated. Sherlock lay down upon the bed, facing John. It had been a long, emotional day. John was broken, but safe. Would things really look better in the morning?

The next morning John woke to find Sherlock Holmes staring at him as they lay side by side facing each other on Sherlock’s bed. Adopting a dead eyed gaze he retreated into himself.

“How do you feel?” Sherlock asked cautiously.

John groaned and brought his hand to his face to rub away the fuzziness in his mind. Rolling onto his back he stared up at the ceiling. “They’re dead.” Closing his eyes he fell back into a restless sleep.

^.~

February 16, 2014

“Are you aware that your brother admitted he thought about marriage?” John stated conversationally to Mycroft during one of his visits.

“Yes.” Mycroft answered without much thought.

“Yes? How do you know?” John demanded.

“Who do you think got it legalized?” Mycroft retorted.

“You got same sex marriage legalized… So Sherlock could get married?”

“Don’t be daft, John. I did it for the good of our crown and country! And making it legal means he no longer has an excuse not to eventually settle down and marry.” 

At that moment Sherlock looked up from where he sat at the desk. “Don’t encourage him. That just makes him stay longer.”

^.~

February 13, 2014

John found himself propped up against the headboard of the bed, bedclothes pulled up to his waist. A cup of warm tea was pressed against his lips and he obediently swallowed. It was prepared the way he liked it, but at a cooler temperature so he could gulp it down. 

“Careful…” Sherlock admonished as he pulled the cup away and blotted at John’s lips with a napkin. The detective tossed the napkin aside and picked up a triangle of toast. “Take a bite. Little bites.”

John obeyed and chewed in silence as he stared off into middle distance.

When the last of the toast was gone and the tea finished Sherlock guided John back down into the bed and tucked the blanket up under his chin. Lightly his fingertips brushed errant hair from John’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

^.~

February 17, 2014

“So… Who would you marry?” 

Sherlock gave him side eye from the sofa. “Are you aware you have been a bit obsessive about the idea of me marrying?”

“The funeral.”

“What about the funeral?” Sherlock grumbled and returned his attention to the ceiling.

“Janine was there.”

“Of course she was there… She was Mary’s friend.”

“She told me something I found a little odd.”

“And what would that be?” Sherlock asked with a put upon sigh.

“She said she never touched you.”

Sherlock rested his fingertips against his lips and remained silent.

^.~

February 15, 2014

“He’s a virgin.” Janine stated.

“What?” John replied, somewhat incoherent in his grieving process.

“Sherlock is a virgin… At least that’s what he told me when I tried to seduce him. He said he was a virgin and wanted to wait. I wrote those horrible things about him because he told me to… He even wrote some of them himself. But in reality… I never slept with him. I would have liked to. God, he’s gorgeous. To go where no woman has gone before… I would have rocked his world! But sadly, no. When I asked him why not he said he wanted to wait for his wedding night.”

John gaped at her.

Janine smirked and finished her drink. “God, I need another one. You want one too?”

“No… I’m good…” John answered.

^.~

February 17, 2014

“It just completely threw me. I mean… I noticed something was off about you and Janine… But… Really? I mean… Really?”

“It was how I lured Magnussen out… By feeding him false information about me.”

“Well… Some of it was real. The drugs were real.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the ceiling.

“So… She mentioned your wedding night. And so I wondered if you actually thought about marriage… Aside from fake ones… Or mine.”

“Yours.” Sherlock mused quietly to himself.

“Sherlock Holmes… I just went to the funeral for my wife and child… Killed by a man responsible for my thinking you were dead for two years. I am in no mood for your flippant answers.” John whispered dangerously.

Sherlock turned his head, eyes wide and mouth open and the sudden anger coming from John. “You reached the anger phase…”

“Sherlock!”

“What do you want me to say? I have thought about marriage, John. Matrimony…”

“For how long? You told me you were married to your work.”

Sherlock shrugged and resumed his stare at the ceiling. “Since I found out about yours. It was a lot of work… It was doable but only just. Next time you get married we’ll go simpler.”

“The next time I get married?” John echoed back at Sherlock, looking dumbfounded. 

“Yes… The next time… It will be simple. We don’t need a church or a reception. I might agree to the tuxedos… Those were nice. But none of that hullabaloo. I despise crowds…”

“So… You’re planning my next wedding?” John rested his cheek on his hand, staring ice daggers at Sherlock. “My wife and baby are not even in the ground for two days and already you are planning my next wedding?” 

Sherlock blinked up at the ceiling, a confused look on his face. “You don’t approve? If you want bigger I can go bigger… You may not like who gets invited. Peerage can be a burden…”

“Who am I marrying, Sherlock?” John growled dangerously.

Sherlock sat up a bit on the sofa to get a better look at John’s expression. “Why are you so angry? I thought you’d be relieved…”

“Relieved?” The word was cold.

“To… Not have to plan…” Sherlock blinked a few times and then bit his lips. 

“My wife is DEAD!” John shot back. “My daughter is DEAD! Her due date was… Was… But she died with Mary. Don’t you understand? I lost my family, you insensitive git! And you…” John broke off and chuckled maniacally. “YOU are planning my next wedding. Go on… Tell me WHO I am marrying. Who could you possibly have in mind to marry ME?”

Sherlock shook his head and bowed it, taking a steadying breath. “You asked me who I would marry… About MY wedding. I answered.” Getting up from the sofa, he wrapped his arms around himself. Misery passed over his face as he felt his heart break into a million pieces. “I know you’re grieving… But you don’t have to be so…” Unable to further express himself, Sherlock sullenly stormed towards his bedroom.

John sat on his chair, taking deep breaths and trying to understand the bombshell Sherlock just dropped on him. 

^.~

February 15, 2014

John woke, his head finally clear from the dark place it had been. But even then everything felt fragile, like he could fall back into the darkness at any moment if he even gave one thought to Mary or… Uncomfortably he squirmed. 

And then he became aware that someone was spooned up behind him with their arm around his waist and their nose pressed against the back of his neck. At that moment he became aware of just how ripe he was and yet the person who held him didn’t seem to notice. Just how long had he been in shock? And where was he?

A quick scan of the wall before him told him he was in Sherlock’s bedroom, laying on the bed. From where he lay he could see the nightstand covered in plates and tea cups. And he wasn’t hungry or thirsty… Although he did have to pee and that was a good sign that he was hydrated. Gently he tried to extract himself from the arm that held him… But it only clung tighter as he tried to move. 

“Sherlock?” John whispered.

Sherlock gave an answering grunt from behind him and the body that held him readjusted itself.

“Sherlock… I’ve got to take a piss.”

A deep breath from the person behind him and then a rather sleepy consulting detective rolled away. “Go ahead… You need help?”

“No…” John answered as he got up from the bed to stumble towards the door. Looking down at himself he realized he was wearing his vest and pants. Both were relatively clean even though he could smell his own body odor. Quickly he made his way to the bathroom to pee before returning to the bedroom. His eyes scanned Sherlock’s dozing form. The man usually slept in the nude but he was wearing his silk robe.

Lazily the detective rolled onto his back, accidentally exposing himself. With a careless scratch to the base of his morning erection he flicked the robe back into place. “How do you feel?” Sherlock asked.

“How long?”

“Three days. The funeral is this afternoon.”

“Oh God! The funeral!” John sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t even…”

“I took care of it.” Sherlock answered as he lightly tapped John’s back with his knee. “If you didn’t snap out of it on your own I would have resorted to extreme measures to at least get you to the funeral.”

“I’ve been in shock this whole time?” John turned to gape at Sherlock. 

“No… First you couldn’t stop screaming. We had to sedate you. When you came out of that you were in shock. You still scream in your sleep. It seems to help if I sleep next to you.”

John’s eyes lingered on the stack of dishes next to the bed. “You’ve been taking care of me.”

“Well… First Mrs. Hudson did… I had work to finish. But it soon became clear you needed me here more than I needed to be out there. Mycroft owes us… Big time. Do you need help taking a shower?”

“What? No… I think I can manage.”

“I tried giving you a bath the first day… You’re slippery when you’re wet. I didn’t want you to drown in the tub and the shower was ineffective when I had to prop you up with one arm… I nearly dropped you twice. But that was three days ago.”

“No… No… It’s fine. Sorry I smell bad…”

Sherlock’s nostrils flared a moment. “Your scent has never bothered me.” Curling up on his side to face John he gave the doctor a fond smile. “I got you to the toilet in time, so I guess that’s what’s important. We still have several hours. You can get a little more sleep.”

“I’m tired of sleeping…” John answered.

“Well… Call me if you need anything…” Sherlock breathed as he shut his eyes, falling into a light doze. 

John lingered by the door, staring at the other man. It seemed Sherlock had attempted to care for his every need when he was in too much shock to take care of himself. 

Catching another whiff of himself he made a hasty retreat to the bathroom for a long overdue shower.

^.~

February 17, 2014

John entered the detective’s bedroom and shuffled his way across the darkened room to the bed. 

“I don’t feel like fighting…” Sherlock stated.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, John turned on the lamp. “I think… I may have jumped to conclusions. I thought you were saying I was to be married again.” When Sherlock was silent John looked to him, noticing the detective was already naked with his back to the doctor. Something was off… Lightly his finger traced one of the many welts and scars that littered Sherlock’s back. “Sherlock?”

“Torture, John… I was tortured.”

“Torture? By whom? Oh God… Look at all of them…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sherlock answered.

“Of course it matters…” John answered.

“Before I came home… I was captured and tortured in an attempt to get information from me. They cracked my ribs and opened my back. Mycroft patched me up before I went home.”

“Where I punched you!” John moaned. “Damn… You should have said something! I knocked you down… I could have broken your ribs!”

Sherlock sighed and rolled over onto his back to look up at John. “I’ve had worse.”

“But not by me.” John whispered.

“Yes… By you…” Sherlock wouldn’t meet John’s eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Your death nearly destroyed me. I was so angry with you for… For not trusting me with the truth.”

“I trust you with my life.”

“You just couldn’t tell me the truth.” John sighed.

“They were watching you, John. You had to believe.”

“You could have sent something later. A note or a clue?”

Sherlock rubbed his face with the back of his hand… Unwilling to get pulled into this argument… Again. “I should have… I’m sorry I didn’t…”

They were quiet for a long time with John staring at Sherlock’s left nipple. “So… Your wedding.”

Sherlock grunted and reached under the blankets to scratch something.

“Tell me about your wedding night. Are you really waiting for your wedding night to… You know?”

“Start my sex holiday?” Sherlock asked, flicking his eyes up at John.

“Honeymoon.” John corrected.

“Same thing.” Sherlock muttered.

“You’re deflecting.”

“Happens a lot with me.”

“No pre-marital sex?”

“Depends on the fiancé.” 

“Why?”

“Some are more worthy than others.” Sherlock rolled to his side, facing John.

“And if they are worthy… Would you be with them before your wedding?”

“If that’s what they wanted.”

“What about what you want?” John lay down on the bed so he could face Sherlock. 

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” John shot back.

“You obviously had sex with Mary before the wedding if she was already showing signs of pregnancy…”

“I never claimed to be a virgin.”

“Do you think I should wait for my wedding night?” Sherlock asked quietly. 

“I think you should do whatever you want.” John answered. “If you want to shag them silly… That’s up to you.”

“And him.” Sherlock added.

“And him.” John echoed, frowning a bit. “Is he a virgin?”

“No.” Sherlock answered and rolled back over onto his back.

“Does that bother you?”

“A little… But I understand. I can appreciate the amount of experience he must have with relationships and pleasuring another person… But still… I have nothing new to offer him.” Sherlock bit his lip and moved his foot under the blanket. “I suppose I will be the first man he’s ever buggered.”

John burst out into a small giggle.

“And I can’t give him children. We could adopt… Or find a surrogate… But it’s not the same.”

“He may not mind.”

Sherlock bit his lip again. “I think he will mind.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because he…” Sherlock shook his head. “I’m not a woman.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Do you?” Sherlock turned his head to look at John.

“I’ve seen your dick.”

“A dick does not a man make.” Sherlock chuckled softly and returned his attention to the ceiling.

“Can I sleep in here with you tonight?” John asked quietly.

Silently Sherlock scooted over and lifted the edge of the blanket so John could join him.

John turned off the light and got comfortable in the bed. For a long time they were silent in the dark. “You were talking about me as your future fiancé, right?”

“Yes.” Sherlock responded automatically.

“Just checking…” John answered.

“Do you… Mind?” Sherlock sounded concerned.

John scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s chest, resting his head against the other man’s shoulder. “Just… Give me some time to mourn.”

“Of course.”

“It might take me a little while to get used to the idea of… Being physical with you.”

“I don’t mind. We can wait for our wedding night if you like…”

“Sherlock if I’m going to be your fiancé I’m going to have sex with you long before our wedding night.”

“John… If you don’t stop talking about this I’m going to have to go wank in the bathroom.”

John giggled softly and pressed a kiss into Sherlock’s shoulder. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

^.~

March 12, 2015

Sherlock set down the small box beside John’s plate sometime between the appetizer and the main course.

John paused in his reach for his glass of water, chewing and staring at the iconic box on the table near his bread plate. Swallowing hard, he looked at Sherlock who acted like he hadn’t done anything unusual. “Is that…?”

“I noticed you removed Mary’s last month. Your finger looks naked without one.” Sherlock answered.

John picked up the box and opened it. The band was simple but elegant. Picking it up out of the box he noticed it was engraved and squinted at the letters in the candlelight. “Yours… W.S.S.H.” 

“I debated whether just SH would be more appropriate. But you’re getting all of me… Including the rest of my name. So there it is.”

“Thank you.” John whispered through the lump in his throat. Sliding it onto his ring finger he stared at it. “I don’t have one for you. I didn’t know you planned to give me this… So soon.”

“I don’t need one.” Sherlock answered as Angelo himself set down their main courses. “Thank you, Angelo.”

Later that evening they returned to the flat and John cornered Sherlock in the kitchen. Standing on tiptoes he kissed Sherlock’s lips. “I’m going to give you a ring too.”

“You don’t have to.” Sherlock whispered with a sad smile. “I know what happened the last time you gave someone a ring.”

“Shut up.” John breathed as he leaned in for another kiss. “You’re getting a ring so everyone knows that Sherlock Holmes finally settled down to domestic life.”

“But I really don’t mind.” Sherlock protested.

“Come to bed.” John took Sherlock’s hands in his own and began to pull the detective towards the bedroom.

“Why? It’s not even close to bedtime…” Sherlock responded, confused.

“We won’t be sleeping.” John answered coyly as he dragged the tall brunette with him. 

“We won’t?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow but no objections as John shut the bedroom door and began to unbutton his buttons. “Then why are we getting ready for bed?”

John gave him a brilliant smile. “All this time we’ve been sleeping side by side… You sleep naked and you never really thought about what more we can do in bed?”

Sherlock blinked a few times before realization dawned on his face. “Oh!”

John paused in his task of undressing the detective. “Or… Would you prefer not to?”

“Can you?” Sherlock whispered. “I mean… We haven’t…”

John pushed his hand down Sherlock’s trousers and grasped something warm that almost instantly hardened in his hand.

“John…” Sherlock gasped and pressed up against John’s body. “Please don’t tease me… I’m afraid I will finish too quickly.”

“You know with a bit of refractory period you can have another go at it.” John replied but pulled his hand out anyway. Finishing his task of undressing Sherlock he pushed him towards the bed before removing his own clothing.

Sherlock paused, one knee on the bed and looking back at John over his shoulder. “You really don’t… Mind? You’re bound to notice I don’t have the same parts as your past girlfriends…”

“Shut up. You asked me to marry you…”

“Well… Technically I haven’t asked anything. I gave you a ring and implied…”

“You want me to marry me, Sherlock. I think I can get off with you quite well.” Laying down on the bed he pulled Sherlock down on top of himself. 

Sherlock propped himself up on his arms, finding his hips pressed up against John’s with the other man’s thighs on each side of him. Glancing down, he saw both of their pricks pressed together. “John…”

“It’s alright.” John whispered, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s neck to give him a light kiss on the lips. “Move against me.”

Awkwardly Sherlock started to move. Research watching John’s stash of porn gave him an idea of what he should be doing, but he was unsure about his technique. All he knew was that rubbing up against John felt fantastic and he recreated the sensation over and over with growing urgency, aware of John’s moans and encouragement. And he was more than a little surprised when John suddenly cried out, reaching down to grab his backside to help guide him into a different, intense rhythm. With a final cry John dug his fingers into Sherlock’s arse and wetness pulsed between them. Blinking down at John, Sherlock suddenly realized his intended had climaxed without him. That knowledge caused a feedback loop in Sherlock’s brain, seeing the look of pure bliss on John’s face and knowing he was the reason it was there. With another thrust he quickly followed John over the edge, adding his own emissions to the mess between them. 

When Sherlock finally opened his eyes he saw John looking up at him, a worried look passed through the doctor’s eyes that the detective couldn’t identify because his brain was wonderfully silent. “What is it?” 

“Did I hurt you? I think I grabbed you… Are you…?”

“I’m fine, John.” Sherlock answered and rolled to the side, aware that he was probably crushing the other man.

“And… You’ve really never done that with anyone before?”

“Why would I do it with anyone else?”

“Experience? Curiosity? Pleasure?” John offered as he pulled away to reach for a tissue to clean up some of the mess.

“I never even thought my transport was capable of any of that before I met you.” Sherlock answered as he watched John expertly wipe away their semen and then toss the tissue into the waste bin.

“You’ve wanked.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Only to clear my mind. It felt good but I could take it or leave it. What we did made it feel different.” 

John curled up against Sherlock using his shoulder as a pillow, one leg casually tossed over Sherlock’s thighs. “I love you, you now.”

“I… I know.” Sherlock whispered, swallowing hard.

“What is wrong?”

“I only get to marry you because you lost Mary. We would have never… If she hadn’t…” Sherlock stumbled through his thoughts.

“You’re probably right. We would have just lived together as just friends. She made us admit we had feelings for each other. She encouraged me to be with you. And I think she encouraged you to tell me how you feel about me.”

“If she had lived…”

“If she had lived… It’s true… I would be with her right now. Our daughter would have been born by now. I would be exhausted with night feedings and yet ecstatic about the entire thing… And then you would come around and you would be Uncle Sherlock and Godfather... Even though you don’t really believe in God… Because I can’t imagine any other person I would want more to look after my daughter than you. And I know you would fall in love with her instantly because she’s a part of me… And Mary whom you still liked even after you found out about her past. You would love her because you love us… And me especially. That’s what would have happened had they lived. We would have gone on living, working together… You would have been the favorite uncle to every single one of my children. And you would bring me home safe to them every night.” John lightly kissed Sherlock’s forehead. “Because you love me. Even when I’m with someone else and it breaks your heart, you still love me.” John’s kisses became light and playful, covering the detective’s face. 

Sherlock pulled back a bit to give John a critical look. “But that doesn’t mean you can find me appealing enough to spend your life with.”

“I just had sex with you and you doubt my sincerity.”

“It wasn’t penetrative.”

“Picky, picky…” John teased. “Will you only be convinced if I let you bugger me?”

Sherlock turned red and looked away. “I don’t think… I mean… We can’t be ready for that… Can we? We would need… Lubrication or something, right?”

“We can try something else that needs less lube.” John smirked and scooted down the bed until his face was level with Sherlock’s hips. 

“What are you…?” But Sherlock’s words were cut short when he gave a short cry of surprise and nearly jackknifed himself around John’s head. “Oh… Bloody hell!” 

John swallowed around the quickly hardening dick in his mouth, attempting everything every talented girlfriend had ever tried on him. Pulling off a moment he sucked on his fingers before returning to his work, using his dampened digits to push into Sherlock’s tight entrance. 

Sherlock was practically sitting up, his hand on the back of John’s head, attempting to cling to the man who with only his mouth and finger made the detective want to rut like a beast. “Fucking bloody hell… John.”

John eased his finger in deeper as he bobbed on Sherlock’s length. His finger curled and…

Sherlock cried out and tried desperately to tackle John and do something primal to him… He wasn’t sure what yet… There was more research needed. But it involved his penis and some orifice of John’s body, he knew that much.

Then John added a second finger.

Sherlock cried out in agony of the sensations that passed through his system. “Please… John.”

John pulled his mouth off Sherlock’s dick to kiss the base. “My fingers are inside of you. Someday it will be more.”

And that threw Sherlock over the edge. Even without John’s mouth directly on him he climaxed suddenly.

If John was surprised by the first spurt he quickly recovered and used his free hand to help wank Sherlock through his orgasm. “That’s it… I’ve got you.” His lips kissed the mess Sherlock made, idly tasting what the detective had expelled. “Hmm… Not too bad.”

Sherlock lay back, panting as he stared up at the ceiling. When John pulled his fingers out he moaned. “Do you need… Help with your own…?”

“I’m good…” John answered as he reached down to expertly relieve himself, his hand still covered in Sherlock’s mess. “It won’t take long.” And it didn’t. Only a few strokes and he was shuddering and moaning. “See?” Flopping down, he didn’t care about the mess. “Told you I could do it…”

They got up for a quick rinse off in the shower before returning to bed. For once John slept naked and didn’t bother with even pants. 

“Goodnight, my future husband.” John yawned and quickly dozed off, curled around the other man.

Sherlock stared up at the ceiling, thinking on what John had told him about what would have been. Suddenly he was in his Mind Palace. 

Mary was there, smiling at him. “You will take care of him, won’t you?”

“Of course… I always do.”

“Make sure he’s happy. He deserves it.”

“He misses you. He still talks about you. I asked him to marry me and I’m still second place to you.”

“Sherlock… You were never second place to me.” Mary stated with a wink. “I was always second place to you.”

“But you got him first.”

“No, Mr. Detective… YOU did. With your eyes and your cheekbones and your collar. How could he resist you?”

“He married you.”

Mary shrugged. “I gave him what he needed. You’ll give that to him now. He needs you. Love him with all your heart and soul. Take good care of him… I’m counting on you.”

“Yes Mary…” Sherlock mused with a sigh, pulling out of his Mind Palace to wrap his arm tighter around his John.

^.~

Christmas Eve 2015

“So you never had a snog in your room when you were growing up?” John asked from where he sat on Sherlock’s childhood bed.

“Is that what people are supposed to do? Snog in their bedroom?” Sherlock asked as he shut the door and began to undress.

“Just… Hold off a minute undressing.” John beckoned him towards the bed. “So… You’ve never had a romantic interest in your bedroom before?”

“This isn’t my bedroom anymore, John.” Sherlock answered as he sat down. “And you got to be in here two years ago.”

“That didn’t count… I wasn’t your romantic interest then. And your stuffed bear is still sitting next to small shrine to your childhood maintained by your mother, ergo it is your bedroom.”

“Don’t be silly, John.”

“Play along.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s more fun that way.” John answered.

Sherlock gave John a assessing stare for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

John scooted closer. “So… We’re done with our school… project.”

“What?”

“You’re playing along.”

“Oh… Yes… School…”

“And I always thought you were rather… Adorable.”

“John? What are you…?”

“A game. This is a game. We are role playing a scenario. We are school chums and I am at your house working on a project with you when I start to put the moves on you. Is that sufficiently spelled out or would you prefer I completely ruin the spontaneity of the moment?”

“Oh!” Sherlock looked surprised and a little confused. 

“We’re both late teens, early twenties. It doesn’t really matter… May I continue?”

Sherlock mutely nodded.

“Thank you.” John paused to re-establish his character. “Anyway… I always thought you were rather… Cute.”

“Thank you?” Sherlock answered.

John moved in and lightly kissed Sherlock’s lips before pulling away with a blush. “I have never kissed another bloke before.”

“Yes you have!” Sherlock answered.

“Role play, Sherlock.” John retorted.

“Oh… Well… Neither have I.”

John leaned in for another kiss, recreating the shyness of awkward teen love. “You taste nice.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock answered and wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders, unable to resist.

John’s hand found its way between the other man’s thighs, cupping him through his trousers. “You’re so hard.”

Sherlock whimpered and pressed himself against John’s hand.

“Do you want to…?” Within two minutes John found himself naked and face down with a pillow under his hips. “This… Isn’t what I had in mind when I suggested role play.”

“This is about as quick as our actual first time.” Sherlock answered as he pushed lubed fingers into John’s body, spreading them. 

“Oh God…” John moaned. “It’s a little kinky, though… Shagging in this particular room.”

“You started it.” Sherlock answered as he nipped John’s arse and sat up to position himself.

“Yes… Well I didn’t mean for it to go from innocent exploration to dirty shag in so little time.” John grunted as he felt Sherlock’s tip breach him. “Slowly… I’m still not used to this.”

Sherlock obeyed, slowly easing himself in until they were flush against each other. Nibbling John’s neck and shoulder he waited somewhat impatiently for John’s signal to continue.

John sighed and reached for Sherlock’s hand. “Ok. I’m ready.”

And with that Sherlock gave a firm, deep thrust. Over and over. His forehead pressed against John’s spine, he held the other man’s hip and continued his solid, deep strokes.

“That’s it… Deep breaths. Concentrate.” And with that John tipped his hips a bit. “That’s it.”

Sherlock made a noise deep in his throat, his face pressed against John as he moved. “I’m… I can’t.”

“Let me turn over.” John demanded.

Obediently Sherlock pulled away and waited for his husband to turn over before pushing back in.

“I don’t want to get cum on your pillow.” John stated.

“I would have licked it off.”

“Oh bloody hell, Sherlock… Don’t say such…” John began to move, his fingers digging into Sherlock’s butt. “Oh… fuck.” Too soon he fell over the edge, causing Sherlock to follow behind. A few more strokes and the detective sighed. 

They fell silent, only their pants and soft moans escaped until Sherlock pulled away, not wanting to crush the shorter man.

“How old would she be now?” John breathed.

Sherlock didn’t even have to ask who John meant. “About 18 months. If she had come on her due date.”

“It’s hard to imagine myself as the father of an 18 month old.” John mused as he idly ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls.

Sherlock moved to lick the semen from John’s belly before kissing his sternum and resuming his spot next to his husband.

“It still amuses me to no end that you feel the need to clean me with your tongue. And for the love of… Don’t talk about cleaning my mess with your tongue when you’re inside of me… Especially if you want me to last for more than twenty seconds. You know what that does to me.”

Sherlock smirked and reached for a tissue to finish cleaning them both before rearranging the pillows for them to sleep. “Of course I do. That’s why I say it. Do you want to have children with me?”

John blinked at the other man, not entirely sure where that non-sequitur came from. “It’s a little difficult to imagine you as a father. Our work doesn’t really give us time…”

“We can make time. If you want children… I won’t deny you. You were so happy…”

“We’re getting old.”

“If we have them now we won’t be so old.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from.” John admitted.

Sherlock gave a frustrated sigh as he leaned over John to turn off the bed side lamp. “You’ve been talking about your daughter. You ask me her age and what I think she would have been like. I think…” Settling into the bed he was careful to keep his arms and legs to himself. “I think you regret marrying me. I can’t naturally give you children the way Mary could.”

“I don’t regret marrying you.” John answered, tentatively to touch the other man’s arm. “Sherlock… I love you.”

“You loved her.”

“Yes… I loved her… And I love you.” John curled up against Sherlock’s body, holding him. “When you died… What I went through with Mary’s death… It lasted much longer when you died. Mrs. Hudson got me to the funeral. But took me weeks to even begin to function again. She had to take me back to your grave because I did not recall ever having visited it. There was so much emptiness in me. I imagined all the ways I could have stopped you… Helped you. And I blamed myself. With Mary’s death there was someone I could blame. But when you died the only one I could blame was myself… That I hadn’t been friend enough to see the warnings signs or the depression. If I was clever like you… If I had known I could have kept you from jumping.”

“Oh…”

John rubbed his tears against Sherlock’s shoulder. “And then to find out that you were alive… All that needless guilt… All that betrayal… And somewhere deep in my soul I hated you for doing that to me. I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.”

“You hurt me.” Sherlock whispered.

“It was petty of me… I’m sorry.”

“But understandable.” Sherlock sighed.

“It was because I loved you. I loved you and you broke my heart… And then you came back and broke it some more. But it wouldn’t have hurt so much if I hadn’t loved you in the first place.”

“Is that how we know we have them? Hearts?”

“Yes.” John idly caressed Sherlock’s belly with is fingertips. 

“Think about whether or not you want a child with me. They won’t replace the child you lost… But I think you would be a great father to any of my progeny. I won’t deny you a family, John… Just because you married another man doesn’t mean children aren’t an option.”

^.~

Christmas Day 2015

“Jaaawn…” Sherlock drawled, covering the shorter man with his entire body. “Wake up, John.”

“Piss off… I’m sleeping.” John moaned into the pillow. 

“You’re not sleeping, you’re talking.”

“A mere technicality, I assure you. Get off… You’re heavy.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Sherlock answered idly moving his hips against the John shaped lump in his childhood bed. They were both in Sherlock’s former bedroom at the Holmes’ house, visiting for Christmas.

“Last night it was difficult to say much with your dick in my bum.” John grumbled. “I’m tired… And my ass hurts.”

“But it’s time to get up.” Sherlock nuzzled against John’s cheek.

“Sherlock, darling… Let your husband sleep in if he wants to.” Mummy Holmes stated from the open doorway.

John got up, nearly throwing Sherlock off of him in his attempt to sit up. “Why didn’t you tell me your mother was right there?”

“Because it doesn’t matter?” Sherlock answered from where he landed on the floor.

“If you want to sleep in, John…” Mummy Holmes started.

“No… No… I’m up.” John yawned and scratched the back of his head, nervously digging a toe into the rug. “Sorry about that…”

“Like we didn’t already know.” Mummy smiled, speaking her mind like a true Holmes. “Breakfast in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Holmes.”

“It’s Mum now, John.” Mummy corrected.

“Mum.” John amended as she smiled and left. “We are not having any more sex under your parents’ roof.” The doctor informed his husband.

“Don’t be such a prude, John. They understand that married couples have sexual intercourse. How do you think Mycroft and I were conceived?”

“Please…” John moaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “Please don’t talk about your parents having sex.”

“But it’s reality, John. I would not be here…”

“Just… Stop.” John got up from the bed and went about the room to put on his clothes.

“They don’t mind.” Sherlock stated from where he sat on the unmade bed. “In fact they are more than a little thrilled that I managed to convince you to ‘settle down’ with me.”

“You convinced me?” John asked, pulling on his socks.

“Last time you stayed here you were with Mary.”

“We stayed in the guest room.” John pulled on his shoes. 

“So much changes in just two short years…” Sherlock remarked.

“Last year at this time I was still in mourning…” 

“Yes…” Sherlock confirmed. 

“And then I came out of mourning and we were engaged within a month and married two weeks after that and… It’s been a quick year.”

“I told you we didn’t need a big ceremony.” Sherlock stated.

That gave John pause. “You realize… It looks a little odd that we got married only about six weeks after I came out of mourning.”

“Seven and a half.” Sherlock corrected. “And yes… I do realize that. It was also one year and seven weeks from the night you found out I wanted to marry you. You asked for time… So I gave you thirteen months. There was no need to put it off any longer.”

“A bigger wedding would have been nice, though…”

“Those that mattered were there. We had a decent dinner at Angelo’s with the lot and then I took you home to shag for several days until we were both sore and chafed. What more did we need?”

John chuckled at the memory of an impatient Sherlock eager to be done with the social obligations so they could go home and have sex. “Oh God, Sherlock…”

“It was my wedding night!” Sherlock pouted. “I don’t see why I had to share you with them.”

“Did you learn nothing from my previous wedding?”

“I learned it didn’t need to drag on for hours. I also learned that you don’t need a best man when the only person who should be your best man is about to become your husband. Witnesses will do in a pinch. I also learned that Mrs. Hudson really has atrocious taste in hats.”

John giggled and sat on the bed beside his husband. “It doesn’t matter. Our wedding was… Very us. It was perfect for you and me.” John bumped the other man’s shoulder. “I think it’s time for breakfast.” Getting up he helped Sherlock to his feet. “You know I love you, right?”

Sherlock smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “I know.”

At the breakfast John looked about the table at the rest of Sherlock’s family. “Sherlock wants us to have children.”

Mycroft nearly spit out his tea.

Mum beamed at her son. “You won’t regret it.”

“I know.” Sherlock answered, resting his hand on John’s leg.

John took his hand under the table and squeezed it.

^.~

October 2016

John moved about the room in a bouncy step that parents of newborns knew well. The bundle in his arms grunted. “I think he’s asleep.”

“You said that last time. He woke up five minutes later.” Sherlock answered from where he sat, watching John comfort their child.

“Don’t listen to your Papa, William.” John whispered to the baby. “You’re nice and sleepy.” Gently he laid the infant down in his bassinette. Watching his son pull his arms and legs in, he stared at the newborn. “I think he’s yours.”

“Don’t be silly… Of course he’s mine.” Sherlock sighed as he went back to what he was doing.

“So what was the point in combining our semen samples if you can figure out which one of us fathered him?” John asked, taking a seat at the table.

Sherlock shrugged. “We left his paternity up to chance.”

“Mm…” John hummed in a non-committal way. 

“Next time we’ll make sure you father one.”

“Oh? There will be more, will there?”

“Of course there will be more.” Sherlock frowned at his husband. 

John reached out to pat Sherlock’s hand.

At that moment William gave a muted wail that newborns were so good at. 

“Your turn.” John smiled at Sherlock.

With a sigh Sherlock set his things down and went to the bassinette. Gathering the baby into his arms he sat with the child curled up against his chest. Then he noticed John smiling at him. “What?”

“Fatherhood suits you.” John answered.

Sherlock blushed and rested his cheek against the top of the baby’s head.

John bit his lips, imagining Mary holding their daughter instead. A moment of pain filled his heart at the loss until he noticed the look Sherlock gave him filled with uncertainty and doubt. John reached out and lightly patted his son on the back as he smiled at his husband. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock blushed.

\--Finis

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday tomorrow! (January 28) Since I'm really a Hobbit it is custom to give others gifts on my birthday. You get a fic! Yay! Sorry it's a sad fic... But I have FEELS! 
> 
> Today is Mozart's birthday... And Sailor Uranus' b-day from Sailor Moon.
> 
> Tomorrow I share a b-day with Alan Alda, whom I love from M*A*S*H.
> 
> Edit: And in case you wonder where this story idea came from... It was two places. The official John Watson Blog where Sherlock writes an entry for John while he's on his "sex holiday"... He mentions John's NEXT wedding. Also in Last Vow Janine talks to Sherlock in the hospital and expresses regret that they didn't get to try it "at least once." ("It" being sex) He responds by saying he's waiting for his wedding night. Put them together and you have Sherlock planning to be John's next spouse.


End file.
